


Rhink and the Harry Potter AU

by afangirlsplaylist



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Harry Potter AU, M/M, Rhink HP AU, Rhink Harry Potter AU, rhink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2018-12-20 04:31:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11913264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afangirlsplaylist/pseuds/afangirlsplaylist
Summary: A Harry Potter Rhink AU told in snap shots of their Hogwarts / pre-Hogwarts lives





	1. The Sorting Hat

_Maybe it won’t take me,_ Link thought in a panic.  _Maybe I’m not good enough._

He looked around at everybody else as if begging for some sign that they felt the same way, and was comforted when he saw a lot of the same, nervous fear.

_Rhett would live here while I have to go home._

He imagined returning home and having to face life more alone than ever, ostracized from Rhett and everyone he called friends. The thought was unbearable.

Amongst the crowd, he saw a few people he knew, other than Rhett. There was a pretty blonde girl named Stevie he’d met on the train, and a small, shy boy named Chase that’d been trading witches and wizards cards. Other than that there were no familiar faces in the throng, and the observation only deepened his anxiety further. 

But he knew his anxiety had to be nothing next to Rhett’s - whose height already had a lot of eyes glancing at him in interest and trepidation. To his credit, Rhett ignored it well, his eyes focused upwards as around twenty ghosts floated in through the nearest wall. 

Some of the more scared students actually jumped at the sight, and several screamed. Having grown up hearing stories of the ghosts of Hogwarts, even Link still flinched at the display, calming as the ghosts introduced themselves and vanished through another wall. He’d been warned of the poltergeist Peeves, but Link saw no sign of him until ten students collapsed over their shoe laces.

“Got your shoesies!” Peeves cackled, singing merrily as he flew off invisibly through the wall  _firsties, firsties, they all fall down_.

The students had only just untied themselves from each other when a small wizard, who introduced myself as Professor. Flitwick, gathered them a line. 

Within moments they were led through the doors and into the Great Hall, which was boasting a beautiful starry ceiling in the late hour. It seemed to never end and it entranced the group so much that they were distracted from the hundreds of eyes staring up at them from the long house tables. 

They were forcefully reminded, however, when they stopped near an old stool with an even older hat perched on it. There was a moment of silence, long enough for Link to become painfully aware of just how many people were in the room, before the hat began to sing. 

* * *

_Though my outside may be frayed,_

_Trust the mind within is not,_

_So place me down upon your head,_

_I’ll help you find your lot._

 

_It may just lie in Gryffindor,_

_Where stays the brave and true,_

_For noble names and surer hearts,_

_You’ll find a place for you._

 

_Or perhaps you’ll find in Ravenclaw_

_A place to hone your mind,_

_For wit beyond man’s greatest measure,_

_Here, it finds its kind._

 

_For Hufflepuff the loyal ones,_

_Do have a place to win,_

_Those kindly folks and worthy souls,_

_Will find a home within._

 

_Still yet in sly old Slytherin,_

_Dwell those clever, wily folk._

_If you’ve a cunning mind and nerve,_

_a place to hang your cloak._

_But as you rip and split, and tear,_

_Please listen to my song,_

_For a house drawn by a great divide,_

_Will not be whole for long._

 

_Though I’m fated to the sorting,_

_By the blood from whence, I’m sewn,_

_As history shows, I’ve warned and said -_

_Do not stand alone._

 

_There’s strength in numbers, know the signs,_

_I’ve seen it all before,_

_Do not despair, do not divide,_

_If darkness clouds our door ~~.~~_

 

_Though Hogwarts lies in peace,_

_For how long I cannot say,_

_If ever love is lost within,_

_These halls may see the day._

 

_I’ve said my piece,_

_No further words,_

_You all now know the past,_

_So take your seat,_

_I do not bite,_

_Let the sorting start at last._

* * *

The hall fell into appreciative applause and curious whispers, mostly among younger students. Nothing the lack of surprise on the faces of the older students, Link suspected a reminder of the war was not an unusual addition to the hat’s song. 

All too soon the headmistress, a wise but strict looking witch Rhett whispered was named McGonagall, stepped from her seat and began calling names from a long scroll.

A horde of terrified fellow first years made their way over to the stool, gradually filling the empty seats at each of the house tables. With every name Link grew steadily more panicked and Rhett grew steadily more fidgety, tugging at the neck of his cloak. 

_Levine, Stevie_

The pretty blonde somehow looked a shade paler than she already was as she took a seat on the stool. It didn’t seem to take long to decide because the hat had barely fallen over her head before she was sorted, amidst cheers from the Gryffindor table. 

Stevie was soon joined by a  _Matichuck, Jennifer_ , who looked relieved as she slipped into her seat at the table beside Stevie.

_Mclaughlin, Rhett._

Link could practically feel Rhett’s heart beating unnervingly fast beside him, and his own heart was thumping rather hard too as Rhett walked over to the stool. It was only in those seconds that Link thought about how long that walk actually was, as he waited for his friend’s verdict.

His arms shaking a little, Rhett shoved the hat over his head and waited, feeling a little stupid as he sat in silence.

“Ahhh.. curious.” The hat began. “There’s kindness in you I see - and loyalty… such loyalty. You’d find a fair home in Hufflepuff. Or perhaps Ravenclaw…”

Rhett held his breath as the hat wracked its magical brains, clearly having trouble with the decision. For a brief moment, Rhett feared it might never decide, until the hat stretched its brim wide and drew breath.

“HUFFLEPUFF!” It roared.

His limbs relaxing at the sound of the verdict, Rhett exhaled deeply and placed the hat aside, moving gladly to the Hufflepuff table. He ended up being seated next to a kind prefect, who offered a hand and welcomed him immediately. Rhett shook his hand but hardly noticed what he was saying, his attention back on the sorting. 

They waited as  _Newton, Matt_  became a Ravenclaw before finally…

_Neal, Lincoln  
_

Link’s legs felt so weak at the knees as his name was called that for a brief moment he wondered whether someone had cast a Jelly-legs jinx in his direction. But by some miracle, he managed to stagger his way over to the stool and place the hat on himself.

“Ahhh, another curious one.” The hat hummed. “I see brains, plenty of brains, yes… But that’s not all you are…”

Link was now clutching the sides of his stool so hard he knew his knuckles must’ve been going white. The anvil of fear sunk deeper into his chest with every second he waited, his eyes closed and willing the hat to say  _something, anything_ to put him out of his misery. 

“SLYTHERIN!” The hat called to the room.

Link grinned as the room burst into applause once again, before setting the hat back on the stool and moving to join the mass of emerald. Taking his seat, Link quickly caught Rhett’s eye across the room and they exchanged small, sad smiles. Almost as an afterthought, Link crossed and looped two fingers in the shape of an R, while Rhett made an L with his own, serving as a little wave.

_They’d made it._


	2. Quidditch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A match against Gryffindor was not one to make light of.

In the wake of Harry Potter, Hufflepuff house hadn’t hoped for a piece of glory in years. So when Rhett joined the Quidditch team in his third year, it was amidst jeers that he was yet another soft pick. In the lead up to the first game of the season whispers followed that he was simply too young, too large, and had all the wrong build for a seeker. He towered over his own team captain and had the muscle to match. So surely someone of his size, they murmured, wasn’t right?

But after a spectacular save where he’d caught the snitch by the tips of two fingers, they were forced to conclude that he was nothing less than the greatest seeker since Diggory. For days, much to Link’s annoyance, Rhett had replayed his win - out loud and in detail.

“Yes I know, it was very good Rhett.” Link sighed, losing patience. “I was there.”

To Rhett’s delight, his first save was followed by several, equally impressive captures - with the result that a great deal of excitement was now buzzing around the upcoming match.Unwilling to face the excitement of the school once Saturday arrived, Rhett waited before going to breakfast, dressed in his robes with his Firebolt over his shoulder. The broom had been a gift from his dad upon joining the team, and although it had long been outmatched by the newer, faster, Starstriker model, it was his pride and joy.

Unwilling to face the excitement of the school once Saturday arrived, Rhett waited before going to breakfast, dressed in his robes with his Firebolt over his shoulder. The broom had been a gift from his dad upon joining the team, and although it had long been outmatched by the newer, faster, Starstriker model, it was his pride and joy.

Adjusting the broom more securely on his shoulder, Rhett grinned when he found Link waiting for him at the entrance to the Great Hall. The brunette’s face was painted half yellow and half red in preparation for the game, conflicted in his support. The colours clashed violently with the emerald of his scarf and robes, but it didn’t seem to bother him as he held out a slice of beans on toast.

“You want to head over a little early?”

Rhett sighed, gratefully taking the toast. “You have no idea.”

Ignoring the turn into the Great Hall they made their way through the entrance hall, the last of the toast devoured before they’d reached the foot of the stairs.

It was only then that Rhett remembered Link was missing breakfast too. “Have you even eaten?”

“I ate before I saw you. Had to get up early to finish that paper for Barnes.”

Professor. Barnes taught Defence Against The Dark Arts and hadn’t been sighted at a Quidditch match in years. He’d seemed to have lost taste for the sport after a rogue bludger had breached the stands and hit him squarely on the side of the head - resulting in a small, permanent indent he liked to boast was from a troll’s club.

On a memorable day, Link had recounted raising his hand to ask for advice on how best to defend against an oncoming bludger. To the shock of no-one, Barnes was not amused. Link had arrived at dinner a half hour late, smelling of magical mess remover but looking very proud of himself at the Slytherin table.

Throwing open the doors to the grounds they enjoyed the rare quiet, taking advantage of the silence while the grounds were empty. Thankfully the sky was a clear blue with only a slight breeze tempting the air, and the ground broke away easily at Rhett’s heel. The conditions were so ideal that his Firebolt was actually vibrating a little in his hand, a feeling that only grew stronger as they got closer to the pitch. If brooms had feelings he’d almost think it was as eager to play as he was.

 _Just a little longer_  he thought, his thumb caressing the wood like he was comforting an irritable animal.  _Just a little longer._

Eventually, the sounds of the rest of the school grew steadily louder behind them as the Quidditch pitch came into view, as imposing and inviting as ever.

“I’ll see you after. Good luck!” Link called, running off to claim seat.

Not wanting to get caught in the crowd Rhett headed for the changing rooms, ducking through the entrance to find the rest of the team already waiting.

Their Chasers - Belle, Lucas and Nicki, were all lounging on seats in the corner, looking thoroughly bored with the pre-match talk. Belle and Lucas, Rhett knew, were as close as any brother and sister would be and came from a long line of Quidditch players. They were also extremely skilled in their own right and flew almost telepathically, passing the Quaffle like they could sense where the other was. When Nicki flew she somehow managed to blend into their dynamic seamlessly, and Rhett would forgive someone for thinking they were three siblings rather than two.

Their beaters, Mike and Alex, were leaning on their bats. Though smaller than the average beater Mike made up for it with precision, finding his mark almost every time. Alex, meanwhile, specialised in force, and had been known to hit a bludger halfway across the pitch in one swing.

Shaking himself out of a fond memory in which Alex had shot a perfectly aimed bludger at Gryffindor’s former Chaser, Rhett turned his attention to their captain.

Ben was a no-nonsense person but also fair, with a friendly smile and a respectable Keeper’s record. It was obvious to anyone, even as the team fought to stay interested in his words, that he cared deeply about the game.

Today, Ben reminded them, they’d be playing Gryffindor - and he made no joke of it.

“I better not see you going easy on Levine, Rhett.” He warned. “I hear she clocked in two hours on the pitch yesterday.“

Rhett rolled his eyes, having heard this same warning a million times. “When have I ever?”

It was true. On the ground, Stevie was the closest thing he had to a sister at Hogwarts, but when they played they were merciless. She was light, determined and built for speed with her slim figure - tying her long blonde hair in a bun to keep it out of her eyes. They had only played Gryffindor once since he’d joined the team, but it had been their closest match all season, with Stevie so close on his tail that her fingers could have scratched his face. Gryffindor’s recent 200 - 20 win against Ravenclaw only made him take her all the more seriously.

“Alright.” Ben resigned, “let’s go.”

As one they filed out into the stands, and were met with a wall of cheers. Scanning the crowd, Link was instantly noticeable as the only hint of yellow on the Slytherin end of the stands, the rest of his house choosing not to wear colours at all. Chase, holding a large sign that alternated between GO HUFFLEPUFF and GO GRYFFINDOR, sat on Link’s left. At the sight of Rhett and Stevie, they hollered from the stands, each shaking one end of the sign and chanting their names. His heart warming, Rhett waved, as he came to a stop near the centre of the pitch.

Meeting Stevie’s eye they nodded politely as the Captains shook hands, and Rhett thought he might’ve seen her wink as she mounted her broom. Following suit, he mounted his own and tore away from the pitch at the blow of the whistle.

_Finally._

In the confines of the castle, Rhett thrived in the quiet. But on the pitch, with the roar of the crowd and the wind rushing in his ears - he felt awake.

There was nothing quite like the tread of loose dirt as he kicked off from the ground, or the ringing commentary announcing their names. Unable to contain himself he did a few loops of the pitch, grinning as he recognised the voice of Greg, a fellow Hufflepuff he’d befriended in first year - commentating.

_"Look at him go! That’s Mclaughlin for Hufflepuff on a firebolt. Honestly, I keep telling him I’m surprised he fits on his broom at all. At 6'7” -”_

“Gregory!”

Rhett turned his head to see Professor McGonagall, aged but formidable as ever, staring Greg down sternly.

“Sorry, Professor,” Greg said quickly, catching himself.  _”Hufflepuff in possession!“_

His attention back on the game, Rhett ignored the action to scan the field for the snitch. On the Gryffindor end of the pitch, Stevie appeared to be doing the same, drifting from one end to the other. He could tell by her face that she had no more of an idea where the snitch was than he did, making no move to dart in any direction.

_“Gryffindor swipes the quaffle from under the hands of the Hufflepuff chasers. Come on now Belle… Gryffindor in possession.”_

Rhett was only vaguely aware as Lucas stole the quaffle mid pass and shot for the goal posts on the other end of the pitch - bringing the score to 10 - 0. Good Rhett thought to himself. The higher the lead they held the stronger their chances of winning the house cup. His only concern was that Stevie, now rising several feet to survey from above - didn’t catch the snitch before they had that.

_“Bennet for Gryffindor with the quaffle - passes to Mcallister. Mcallister heads for goal. This will be the first test of the match for the Hufflepuff keeper. Mcallister shoots -”_

Greg groaned audibly along with the Hufflepuff end of the pitch.  _“Mcallister scores. Gryffindor ties 10-10.”_

Rhett saw Stevie pause near the goal to high five her team mate, before speeding off again. Not wanting to give her time Rhett kept scanning the air too, glancing every so often to be sure she hadn’t seen anything.

Several minutes on, the scarlet end of the stands had more to cheer about as Gryffindor earned two points a piece, bringing the score to 10 - 30. Beginning to feel a small twinge of anxiety now, Rhett swung his broom around and looked up, cursing under his breath when he mistook a spot of sunlight on Mike’s robes for the snitch.

Thankfully Lucas, Belle and Nicki quickly landed a goal each, pulling them ahead a little again. Vaguely he heard Greg announcing the score somewhere above him,  _“40 - 30 to Hufflepuff.”_

Meeting Lucas’ gaze briefly, Rhett offered a thumbs up - which he returned before passing the Quaffle on.

 _“Hufflepuff still with the quaffle.”_  Rhett heard Greg call.  _“Recent find Nicki Jones swerves the Gryffindor Chasers and heads for goal and - ouch! Excellent shot by Gryffindor beater Matichuk. I have said she does have excellent muscles…”_

There was a pause in which Rhett glanced to be sure she was okay, breathing a sigh of relief when saw Nicki looking dazed but otherwise fine.

 _“Gryffindor with the Quaffle,”_  Greg announced, pulling his attention back to the rest of the game. Cursing under his breath, Rhett searched for any sign of Stevie or the snitch, but both were momentarily lost to his sight.

_“Bassett heads for the goal.” Greg continued, “She dodges a bludger, excellent manoeuvre there, and - Rhett stop her!”_

At his warning Rhett’s gaze whipped around in mid air in time to watch Stevie, now a streaming blur of scarlet, speeding rapidly towards a speck of gold.

His heart thumping wildly, Rhett urged his broom forward desperately, tearing through the air in pursuit and almost unseating the Gryffindor beaters.

Why had he taken his eyes off of her? What made him think, while he was fretting over everything else - that he could abandon his search for the snitch even for a moment?

The crowd held their collective breath and a score for Gryffindor went almost entirely unnoticed as Rhett drew neck and neck with Stevie. She, meanwhile, acted as if he wasn’t there - stretching her arm out as far as she could. She was faster and closer by a mere inch, but Rhett’s arm was longer, leaving the match far too close for either of their liking.

Panicking, Rhett made a wild decision and looped under her, coming at the snitch from below. Swiping madly as he shot upwards, he came to a stop as the crowd went suddenly silent.

He knew even before he felt the small wings beating against his hands that he had done it, as the crowd realized what happened and erupted in noise. It all happened so fast that he was descending before he could even remember guiding his broom down, surrounded the second his feet touched the ground.

Link ran down from the stands, squeezing Stevie’s shoulder affectionately before gathering Rhett in a tight hug.

“That was awesome!” He beamed.

Soon the rest of the team landed and gathered around Rhett, each patting him on the back until Rhett wasn’t sure whose body was whose. Finally, they let him go and turned their attention back to the Gryffindor’s - each shaking Stevie’s hand respectfully.

When the last of them had let go, the pitched started clearing to take the festivities into the castle - where no doubt mounds of food and flagons of butter beer were waiting.

“I’ll beat you one of these days Mclaughlin,” Stevie said playfully, nudging him in the side as she shouldered her broom.

“In your dreams Levine.” He smiled.

Stevie only smirked, holding out a fist for him to bump before leaving the stands, arm in arm with her team’s beater Jen. It was of some comfort to Rhett that she didn’t seem to be crestfallen, as he saw the pair talking animatedly until they were out of sight.

“Ready to go?” Link asked. “You’ve probably got a party waiting for you, man.”

He grinned, thinking hard as he followed Link out of the pitch. “Yeah… but I’ve got something else in mind too.”

No one could say how long the celebrations went on in the Hufflepuff common room that night, and no one questioned why the star of the evening was missing for so many hours. All anyone knew was Rhett had disappeared a mere two hours into the party. No one saw him slip quietly into an empty classroom with his hands full of butterbeer and cake, at the heels of a boy in Slytherin robes.

They talked at length about the match, clinking and sinking copious amounts of butterbeer and laughing as Rhett held out a piece of cake for Link to bite into. The smaller boy emerged with a white nose of cream, before promptly swiping some more cream off the top and rubbing it over Rhett’s face. It wasn’t long before their own houses and the risk of being caught were forgotten, the glow of victory still burning strong.

Meanwhile, Stevie and Jen, Rhett heard the next morning, could be seen downing fire whiskey and talking tactics in the Gryffindor common room well into the early hours of the morning.

It was good to be at Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love, please leave one :) <3


	3. Herbology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rhett, Chase, Link, and Professor. Longbottom become the unofficial Hogwarts Herbology club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small chapter for now, but I hope you enjoy it :)

Professor Longbottom, who taught Herbology, was one of the most admired professors at Hogwarts. This was owing, in part, to his famed involvement in the downfall of he-who-must-not-be-named. It also didn’t hurt that he was young and immensely good looking. It had the effect of causing many girls, and some boys, to whisper and blush behind their hands, often losing focus when Professor Longbottom was standing by their table to survey their pots. However, the distracting giggles and murmurs were all rather annoying to Link, who had enough trouble focusing on the more boring plants as it was.

Thankfully he had double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs every other Wednesday, where he was allowed to share a table with Rhett and Chase. Both seemed to have a certain fascination with the subject. Rhett had stared, with wide-eyed curiosity, when they were introduced to the Devil Snare’s twitching vines, and Link had actually had to grab his arm with a gloved hand to quell his temptation to touch it. Chase, meanwhile, had listened with rapt interest while Professor Longbottom told them all about Puffapods - which were pink, bulbous pods full of beans. Link listened only long enough to know that they’d at least come in useful if he ever needed to distract a troll.

By their second year, it was not unusual for Rhett and Link to pass Greenhouse Three at lunchtimes, only to catch a glimpse of Chase deep in discussion with Professor Longbottom. Chase had taken to having tea with him most afternoons, after helping him tend to the many dangerous plants that lived there. It was only when Chase produced a particularly beautiful cut of flutterby bush, displaying it proudly on his dormitory window sill - that Rhett took an interest.

On a Thursday at breakfast, Rhett slipped between two third-year Slytherins to take a seat next to Link - his yellow robes standing out in the mass of emerald. Some of the closest students shot glares his way, while others looked mildly curious or were too used to his presence to care. 

“I’m going to have tea with Chase and Professor Longbottom at lunch. Want to come?” Rhett asked, helping himself to a strip of bacon off Link’s plate.

Link grimaced into his pumpkin juice. “I don’t know...”

“Come on, Link.” Rhett pleaded. “He’s supposed to have a plant that shoots slime at you if you poke it.”

“Oh wow, can’t miss that.” Link said sarcastically, tearing off a strip of toast with his teeth. 

 

He’s still calling out assurances that he won’t go even as Rhett slips back to the Hufflepuff table, taking his place beside Chase.

Yet he still found himself walking to the Greenhouses that afternoon, working hard to keep up with Rhett’s long legs. When they arrived Chase was already brushing soil off his robes, and Professor Longbottom was pouring tea into four large cups.

Link notes, as he is passed his tea, a look of curiosity in his professor’s eyes - as well as something that looked like suspicion. Link didn’t know why, they’d hardly said a word to each other outside of classes - and as far as he knew he wasn’t scoring horribly on his class work. Yet there was a definite hint of distrust in his stare. From what Link had heard the young professor had lost much in the first and second wars, and there were rumours that his parents were still in St. Mungos for irreversible brain damage. As Slytherin house was so deeply rooted in the cause of the war, Link couldn’t say he was surprised he had reservations about Slytherin’s students. No matter how much the sorting hat spoke about severing the divides between houses Link knew it had to be easier for some than for others.

But he did, at least, speak to him with just as much warmth as he did Rhett and Chase. Possibly even more politely than necessary, as if he'd noticed Link watching and was overcompensating.

He gives the professor a curious glance of his own at this before Rhett’s voice chirps up beside him. “So do you really have a plant that shoots sap at you?”

“Sure do.” Professor Longbottom says brightly. “The  _ Mimbulus Mimbletonia. _ It's actually Stinksap, and it’s a really interesting defense system.”

Link fazes out of the conversation as Rhett and Chase roar with laughter, Professor Longbottom having just told them a story of getting covered in Stinksap as a student. 

In fact, they are two cups in before he realizes he’d hardly talked at all, too distracted by his own thoughts. He looks to Rhett, carefree and at home in the sunlight and greenery. Rhett had never expressed disappointment for him being placed in Slytherin. They’d agreed, after all, to let the hat decide their fate. But did Rhett still feel that way? Or was it inevitable that prejudice that would grow and fester, until they are torn apart by two words uttered by a hat? One in each of their ears.

“Do you have a favourite plant, Charles?” Link hears Professor Longbottom ask, breaking him out of it for the second time.

“Uhhh…”

“Charles doesn't have one.” Chase finishes for him. 

Link shoots an annoyed look at Chase (no one called him Charles except teachers) but his expression softens at the joking grin on the boy’s face. 

“Yeah, not really.” Link confirms.

He zones out again and turns to Chase this time, who was sipping deeply from his cup. Chase had lost things too. In fact, Link often wondered if that was another reason he had connected with their Herbology teacher.

 

Chase and his family lived just outside Hogsmeade, as they’d wanted to avoid the cost of living in the village itself. They weren’t badly off, his father had owned part of the Hogsmeade post office - but they were careful with their money. 

Chase had told them that when his older brother had gone to school they would stay at the Leaky Cauldron just before the start of term. So that they could get his school supplies and send him off on the train with the rest of the school. But now that Chase attended Hogwarts, he was raised by his mother. In his first year, the pair had walked the long path from Hogsmeade to the school, so that Chase could fulfill the first year tradition of crossing the lake. But this year Chase had arrived via floo powder at the start of term, still brushing soot off his robes as he took his seat for the sorting.

Chase didn't like to talk about why he was raised by his mom, and neither Link nor Rhett had asked him to repeat the story more than once, because Chase got still and stony whenever he had to talk about it. About how, almost five years earlier, the cold high voice of Lord Voldemort had pierced the night air, reaching the small family even from the edge of Hogsmeade. How his father, kissing Chase and his mother goodbye, had left for the school immediately - never to return.

He'd been crushed by falling debri somewhere near the third floor that evening, Chase had said. That at least, was what he’d been told. He'd never seen the body since his mother didn't let him go with her to the school the next morning, but he'd inherited his father’s wand and broom. Chase didn’t ride it much, although he was a fair flier he preferred to leave that to Rhett. But sometimes he could still be seen circling the Quidditch pitch in the early evening. Link asked him at dinner one night if he was planning on trying out for the team, but Chase shook his head. “I needed to be with dad.” He’d said, and Link had never questioned it again.

Link often pondered what the smaller boy’s secret was. He’d almost be envious of how he could look so eternally cheerful, but then he thought about how the voice of Lord Voldemort must play through Chase’s head every night - and all envy faded.

All in all, Link was relieved when the three of them thanked the professor for tea and got up to leave, though something stopped him walking out the door.

“Can I meet you at the castle? I wanted to… ask about the homework.” Link lied.

Rhett and Chase shrugged and headed out the door, waving goodbye as they went.

 

Yet he still didn't know what to say when the door closed and they were left alone.

 

“Not a fan of plants are you?” Professor Longbottom cut the silence for him.

Link bowed his head a little sheepishly. “Not really, no.”

“You’re a good friend for coming anyway. Even if it's just for tea.” Longbottom comments, and shoots him a genuine smile of approval. 

“Chase thinks you're great.” Link adds helpfully.

“Chase is…. like me.” Longbottom finishes. “He needs friends like the two of you.”

Link nods and an awkward silence fills the air for a moment. He’s half tempted to leave but the nagging thoughts in his mind stop him again.

“Professor?”

“Mhm?” Longbottom hums in response, listening as he offers a small handful of woodlice to a resting Bowtruckle.

“Am I supposed to be bad?”

Longbottom turns from the Bowtruckle and looks at him in confusion. If there had been anything he was expecting Link to say that wasn't it.

“Because I'm in Slytherin house.” Link explains.

Professor Longbottom’s lip curls up in an effort to hold back a chuckle. “No.”

“Because everyone acts like I am.” Link bursts out, moving to pass a few woodlice to the Bowtruckle himself. “Even you, a little.”

“I never mean to.” Professor Longbottom says gently, placing a hand on his shoulder for a moment before pulling away.

 

The stand in silence again for a moment, watching the Bowtruckle eat with its long claws.

 

“Pretty cool isn't he?” Longbottom says, noticing where Link was looking. “I watch this little guy for Professor Hagrid sometimes, but he seems to think he lives here. I’m still a little afraid of the claws, to be honest.”

“Uh huh.” Link says distractedly, watching the Bowtruckle take another large chomp.

Professor Longbottom seems to notice his distraction because he brushes off his hands and looks at him again. 

“Look at it this way.” He begins, now starting to place pots on the nearby tables. “They set fire to the sorting hat so Slytherin would be only house left here, But I could still pull a Gryffindor sword from it, and we’re still sorting today. Seems to me that you’ll be who you’ll be no matter where something, or someone, tries to place you.”

 

Link frowned thoughtfully, still unconvinced.

 

“You are not your house and you are not what they think of you,” Longbottom says firmly. “If there’s anyone you can trust on that it’s me.”

“You don’t find it hard?” Link asks, an edge of disbelief in his voice. “After what they did to you?”

He swallows when Professor Longbottom goes silent, feeling like he may have crossed a line as he sees a brief shadow cross his professor’s face. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t appropriate. I’ll go.”

 

He makes it to the greenhouse door and has one hand on the handle before Professor Longbottom’s voice calls out to him again.

 

“Plenty of Slytherins came back too.”

Link turns his head back towards him. 

“On that night, when we were fighting.” Longbottom elaborates. “Many Slytherins came back to fight on our side, I saw them. Probably saved the lives of a few people I care about.”

 

He paused and Link could only assume memories were flashing through his mind before he kept speaking.

 

“I remember them just as clearly as I remember every Slytherin on the other side. They fought their prejudices just like us.”

“Still do.” Link added, thinking of the students in his own year and that small, sliver of distrust.

“Yes, still do.” Longbottom agreed with a smile. “Have a good evening Mr.Neal.”

“Evening, professor.” Link said politely, accepting the gentle dismissal.

 

This time he's stopped by the sound of a small crash, as one of their cups falls from Professor. Longbottom’s hands.

“ _ Reparo. _ ” Longbottom chants, as he draws his wand and watches the shards fly together again. 

“Some things never change, unfortunately.” He tells him, a crimson colour rising to his cheeks.

But Link simply grins and leaves without a word, trudging up the grounds back to the castle.

 

Maybe Herbology wasn't so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments are love - please leave one :)

**Author's Note:**

> comments are love please leave one <3


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